


Absolution

by Zandra_Court



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Plug, Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Cock Rings, Genital Torture, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:12:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zandra_Court/pseuds/Zandra_Court
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post ep 10x09: Events begin at the close of <i>The Things We Left Behind</i><br/><i></i><br/><i>Sam and Cas need to figure out how to rid Dean of the Mark of Cain and do it fast. Dean wants Cas to kill him, but Castiel, Warrior of God, has some history in helping humans find absolution. The question is, will it be enough?</i><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> This story is more about physical punishment as a means to cleanse the soul, rather than actual BDSM. But Cas loves Dean, so there's no way it's **only** about penitence either. The depictions are graphic and there is some talk of suicide. The fic is rated E for a reason, so take care in deciding. Fanfic shouldn't hurt.

“OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD.” Claire just kept repeating the words over and over with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, shaking.

“Claire…” Cas still had his arm across her shoulders, guiding her to the Impala. When they got back to the car, she stepped out from under his arm, looked at him with profound fear and let out a loud, piercing scream. Cas stared at her, panic on his face before he reached his fingers out to touch her forehead lightly. The scream stopped and she slumped to the ground.

He lifted her into the back seat and rested his hand on the top of her head as he whispered, “Ο Θεός κατέχει το φόβο και τον ύπνο σας μέχρι να βρείτε την ειρήνη.” The Greek sleeping spell should keep her out for at least twelve hours while he and Sam figured out what to do. Cas covered her up in the grey fleece blanket that was always folded in the back seat. He closed the door and walked back up to the house.

Sam was still kneeling on the floor in front of Dean, arms hugging his brother tight as Dean sobbed. Cas looked away. He was horrified at what Dean had done, though not exactly surprised by it. But that wasn’t why he looked away. It reminded him of how Sam’s place in Dean’s life would always be above his own and it never failed to hurt when he was reminded of it. 

Cas’ gaze instead fell upon the bloody corpse of Randy. He tilted his head, studying the body of the man who had set Claire up to steal for him and then traded her to a rapist to pay off a debt. For a moment, he considered zapping himself into Hell; telling Crowley that this one was ‘special’. But being in Crowley’s debt never was a good thing. Instead, he reached out a hand. White light emanated from his palm and he watched dispassionately as each molecule of the dead man’s earthly shell dissipated into the ozone, leaving nothing but a faint black scorch behind. With the cold stiffness that used to be the entirety of his mannerism when he first became an angel, Cas dissolved each dead body in turn. When he was done, his borrowed grace had weakened and he panted, resting his hands on his knees. He looked up to see Sam and Dean, both standing now, staring at him.

“We should go.” Cas had a slight wheeze in his voice, as he stood up straight.

“Cas, I…”, the words drifted out of Dean’s mouth. Cas looked at him for a moment before he turned pointedly to Sam.

“We need to get them both back to the bunker. I’ve put Claire under a sleeping spell, but who knows what state she will be in when she wakes.” 

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Dean, give me the keys.”

Dean was still watching Cas, wanting desperately for the angel to look at him, but Cas had already started walking towards the door.

“Dean.” Sam said with some force.

“Uh, yeah… yeah,” he dug into the pocket of his jeans and handled them to Sam.

Sam placed a hand on Dean’s elbow and pushed, inducing his brother to walk forward. He didn’t let go until they got to the car. Cas was already in the back seat, Claire’s sleeping head on his lap as he lightly brushed hair from her face. Sam opened the door, placed a hand on the top of Dean’s head and pushed him into the passenger seat.

“You wanna buckle me in too Sammy?” Dean asked with light sarcasm.

“Don’t push me right now, Dean.” Sam’s voice wasn’t exactly angry, just very firm. In that moment, Dean was reminded of Dad; the tone that commanded compliance. And you did because you knew you’d fucked up pretty bad and now all you could do was wait for what would come next.

Dean pulled the buckle around himself as Sammy closed the door. In the silence while Sam walked around to the driver’s side, Dean could hear Cas whispering to himself. Dean recognized it as Enochian, which meant he was probably putting some kind of protection spell over Claire. Dean’s shame battled with his anger as he thought about what had almost happened to the teenager tonight.  
_They deserved it. Not like that. She was going to be raped. Cas stopped that. They weren’t going to let me go. You weren’t trying to escape._ It was a war between his soul and the Mark that had raged inside of him all last year. 

As the engine roared to life, Alice Cooper’s How You Gonna See Me Now filled the car. For once, Sam turned the volume **up** as they drove off into the night.

********

With a light thud, Cas dropped a highball glass on the table in front of Sam, having just poured himself a triple. With a nod, Sam poured the same for himself as Cas sat in the chair next to him.

“You get her settled?” Sam asked, closing his laptop.

“Yes. I put a warding spell on her room so I’ll know when she wakes up. She should be out for another couple hours.”

“And then what?”

Cas took a gulp, wishing the alcohol had more of an effect on him. “I honestly don’t know. Staying with us is hardly the safest place for her, but where else would be? I could wipe her memory, but I _don’t_ like doing that.” 

Sam nodded. Dean had told him about what Naomi had been doing to Cas’ memories, for millennia it seemed. He understood, but what she’d seen…

“Cas, as someone who saw it early, I know it’s survivable. But if she doesn’t have to carry that darkness, that would be a blessing to her. She’ll for sure have PTSD and it’s more likely she’ll become a hunter. You could prevent both.”

Cas stared into his whiskey glass. “I will ask her. If she wants that, fine. But I’m not going to take that choice away. I can’t.”

“Sure.”

It was Cas’ turn to ask. “What are you going to do?”

“He asked me to put him in the dungeon.”

“Did you?”

“No. I locked him in his room. After I removed all the weapons so he wouldn’t…y’know.”

Cas took another swallow of the amber liquid. He knew. After they had managed to cure Dean of his demon-ness, Sam had found Dean sitting on his bed with his Glock in his hand. That had been the moment Sam decided to take Dean out of the bunker to someplace warm and sunny. Not that people couldn’t be suicidal in good weather, but it was still better than a windowless bunker buried in the ground full of instruments of death.

_Cas? I’m sorry. I'm so sorry, man. But you see? You see now, why you gotta keep your promise? I can’t stop and no one can put an end to it but you. I know you understand. You felt it in purgatory. I deserve it. Please, man. You promised._

Dean’s prayer echoed in Castiel’s head as he drank down the rest of the whiskey. He had promised, but that was before he knew what Dean was going to ask. Cas would do anything for him, but not this. The fact that Dean thought Cas was capable of killing him only showed how little the human was paying attention.

 _Cas, I know you can hear me. You gotta do this. Don’t make me take the girly way out._ The image of Dean holding a razor blade over his wrist flashed in Cas’ mind and he was out of his chair like a shot.

“Cas! What is it?” Sam shouted as he took off after the angel.

The door to Dean’s room blew open. Dean’s right hand hovered over his wrist, but the Mark was preventing him from bringing the razor closer. Cas could see the fleshy, purple welt on Dean’s right forearm practically pulsing.

With a wave of his hand, the small blade flew from Dean’s grip. Dean let out a roar and dove at Cas knocking him to the floor. As Cas’ head hit concrete, he saw Sam come to the doorway. Cas mojo’d the door closed. He could hear Sam pounding on it, but if he and Dean were about to throw down, the human needed to be out of the way. The distraction allowed Dean to land some solid blows to Cas’ jaw.

Using a combination of strength and grace, Cas pushed Dean hard up and back. Scrambling, Cas ran at Dean, plowing him to the wall. The Mark meant Dean didn’t stay stunned for long, so before he could recover, Cas punched him hard in the gut, threw him to the floor and landed on him, with a knee in Dean’s back. Cas undid his own belt and used it to secure Dean’s wrists. Keeping his weight down, he growled, “Dean, you have to stop fighting me.” The hunter yelled and thrashed for a few more seconds before slowing.

There was a sag to Dean’s body and Cas knew he’d recovered a semblance of control over the Mark. Cas stood up, helped Dean to his knees and then up. As he got Dean vertical, Cas lifted the spell holding the door closed. Sam practically fell into the room.

Taking in both Dean’s wrists and the fresh cuts on his brother’s face, he turned to Cas, “I’ll go get the cuffs and meet you in the bathroom. We’ll get him cleaned up.” The angel nodded and Sam left.

Cas cupped Dean’s elbow the way Sam had done earlier, guiding him out and down the hall. “You and Sammy think you can keep me from Hulking out, but you can’t. It’s only getting worse, Cas.”

“It is. And I may not be able to stop the Mark from hunking you, but I can control you when you do.” Cas agreed.

Dean laughed slightly. “Hulking, not hunking. You know, like turning into the Hulk.”

“The Mark was not caused by gamma radiation, Dean. Though I do see the similarities.”

Sam was waiting with the demon cuffs when they got to the bathroom, but seeing Dean with a grin on his face, he slipped one pair into his back pocket and handed the other to Cas. “He looks OK now, so how about we just hold off.”

“Agreed.” Cas slipped the cuffs into his trench coat pocket and started to undo the belt binding Dean’s wrists.

“Fellas I’m OK for the moment, but I don’t feel terribly in control right now. I think I’d rather be cuffed.”

Sam looked pityingly at his brother, “Your shoulders are going to hurt if we keep you trussed up. How about we cuff you in front?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “You might as well bind me with Kleenex then.”

“You can’t just live your life with your hands behind your back, Dean.”

“Then fucking lock me in the dungeon like I asked you in the first place!”

“Enough!” Cas’ voice reverberated off the tile and glass of the bathroom. “Sam, can you give Dean and I a little bit? Maybe make some food?”

Swallowing his annoyance and frustration, Sam said, “Fine. Sure. Whatever.” And headed down to the kitchen.

Slipping the cuffs out of his pocket, Cas snapped one on Dean’s left wrist and turned him slightly, pulling it behind. Dean brought his right arm back and let Cas close the steel around his other wrist. The position of Dean’s arms meant the Mark was turned out. Cas lightly brushed his fingers across it. It felt hot to the touch and Cas felt a stinging sensation in his grace. Dean let out a howl of pain.

“Does my touching the Mark hurt you?” Cas moved so he was standing in front of Dean. 

“Yeah.” Dean huffed out another breath and sat on the counter top. 

Cas decided he wasn’t going to ask more about that right now and pulled out the gauze pads, hydrogen peroxide and steri-strips from the wall cabinet and went to work on the cut under Dean’s jaw from where his mandible had hit the floor when Cas dropped him. 

“You promised.” Dean barely whispered.

“No, you asked me to promise.”

“And you said, ‘Of course’.”

Cas shook his head but kept working. “Because my default is to do anything you ask. I have a hard time saying no to you, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I seem to recall a pretty forceful no from you at Angel HQ a few months back.”

“You may also recall that I couldn’t kill you then either.” Cas kept wiping blood off Dean’s face. The cut was clean, but that only served to show how much dried blood there still was from the earlier slaughter.

“That was different. Then you were being asked by a bunch of dicks with burned-off wings to kill me. This time, I’m doin’ the asking.”

Cas looked into Dean’s eyes. “I don’t know why you think that makes a difference. I can’t kill you Dean. I won’t. Ever.” Cas wrapped his hand around the side of Dean’s neck, holding his head the way Dean had done to him many times. “Sam is not the only one who cares for you.”

Dean hung his head. “What do we do then? I can’t be this. This is worse than Hell, Cas. It’s inside me, like a disease.” Cas’ hand rubbed down his left shoulder and Dean found himself leaning into the touch. Like when Sammy had dropped down and held him earlier; the physical connection helped the darkness subside. 

“We will find a way Dean. It’s what we do. But I don’t think Sam can stand to put you in the dungeon again. It’s too much like we failed if he has to put you back in shackles under a devil’s trap. However, I could put some binding spells on my room and keep you there. Until we figure out what to do.”

“You still gotta tie me up though.” Dean wished that didn’t sound quite so kinky but Cas seemed to ignore the implications. If he hadn’t just massacred five people, he might have been flirtier with Cas, but as it was, he just couldn’t bring up enough of himself to try.

“I am confident I will be able to secure you well enough.” Cas pulled gently on Dean’s arm, standing him up off the counter and guiding him down the hall towards Cas’ bedroom.

********

“No way, Cas. No. I’m not leaving him.” Sam was arguing with the angel in the Sit Room an hour later.

“Sam, we can’t keep Claire here. She needs someone who can care for her and Dean says Sheriff Hanscum is willing to take her in.”

“From what I’ve seen of her, Claire’ll eat Donna alive.”

“I expressed a similar concern that anyone could manage her right now, but Dean says Sheriff Mills is going to help. We just have to get Claire to South Dakota and Sheriff Hanscum will meet her there.”

“Fine. But none of that explains why it has to be me and not you.”

Cas had been thinking about how to explain this part to Sam in a way that would satisfy but not alarm him. “Did Dean ever tell you about my time in purgatory?”

The question was so left-field that Sam cocked his head in confusion. “Only that he tried to get you out and couldn’t.”

“He couldn’t because I didn’t want to leave. He struggled with that because he couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to come back here with him. And he wasn’t willing to go without me, so at the last moment, I shoved him through.”

“Why would you do that? He was wrecked for months after. You left him?”

“Yes. And it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Honestly, if Naomi hadn’t pulled me out, I would probably still be there.”

Sam stared at him in disbelief. “Why?”

“Because I deserved it. Sam, if there is one thing that angels understand, it’s the complexity of restitution. When God ordered punishment of the wicked, it was not revenge, but a means to cleanse the soul. Purgatory was where I belonged after what I’d done. It purified me.”

Sam could feel the lump in his throat rising. He had no idea if his brother had ever told Cas about that night in the church, when he’d told Dean that the trials were purifying him, but it didn’t really matter. 

“So, um, what are you going to do then?” he asked thickly

“Dean didn’t want to be cured of the demon because he knew he’d feel like he does now. He wants me to kill him so he can stop feeling. Obviously, I’m not going to do that. But I can help with the absolution.”

Sam didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t help himself, “Are you gonna…” Cas cut him off.

“Sam, take Claire to South Dakota. And take your time coming back.”

“Alright. I’ll call Jodi and let her know we’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

********

It had taken Cas another round of persuasion to convince Claire to go with Sam willingly. It helped that Winchesters were blessed with mesmerizing looks and once Claire had discovered that she and Sam had similar taste in music, she was more willing to go along. For his part, Sam’s own teenage years had been hard enough that he understood her and could get her talking. By the time they left, Cas thought she was developing quite a crush. He wasn’t worried about Sam doing anything to her and thought that as long as she wanted to be with Sam the whole trip would be easier for both of them.

Cas returned to his room two hours later with a large, oilskin bag and found Dean asleep on the floor. He had tried to convince Dean to be shackled to the bed, but Dean had insisted on being chained to the radiator. Cas left enough slack in the chains that he could lie down. At first he was only going to chain Dean’s wrists, but Dean wanted his ankles too, with the chain going behind him and attaching to his waist at a hip shackle so he wouldn’t be able to stand up or straighten his legs. 

“If you’re not going to do this right, I’m only gonna get pissed.” Dean had warned. That was the moment that Cas understood exactly what Dean was needing. He wanted to be punished, to feel the purifying pain that came with it. It had been a couple thousand years since he’d been tasked with doing this to a human. And he’d never had to do it to a human he cared so deeply for. But this might be the only way to bring Dean back to himself.

Cas sat down on the floor next to his sleeping friend and leaned against the wall, rubbing Dean’s back until he started to wake up. 

“Hey, man, what time is it?” Dean slowly sat up, the realization that he was chained (and why) hitting him in a rush. He gave a deep sigh and maneuvered himself so he was half-sitting against the wall, looking at Cas.

“It’s about eight in the morning. Sam’s left to take Claire to South Dakota like you suggested.”

“Good. So, now what?”

“Well, that will be up to you.” Cas grabbed the bag he’d brought and dragged it between them. He proceeded to untie the lacing thong that held it closed, allowing the edges of the long bag to flop open.

Dean studied its contents: a long, one-inch wide strip of leather with a handle made of horn; a shorter, thick strap that ended with one end wrapped around a stick; small, thin, long strips of a lighter, softer kind of leather; a section of lambskin wool; thin pins of what looked like dark brass, some straight, some bent into shapes; crudely shaped lumps of dark grey stone; larger stones that were perfectly round; a few oddly-shaped, highly polished crystals; skinny strips of yew branch about 18 inches long and sanded smooth; something that looked like a small cage, made of iron; sticks of beeswax rolled around thin wooden wicks; a glass vial filled with a yellow fluid; and a thin strip of iron that rested on a flat stone. Dean watched as Cas picked up something that Dean could only envision as a knife. A handle made of antler and wrapped up in another thick piece of leather. Carefully, Dean watched as Cas unfolded what served as a sheath, exposing a glistening piece of obsidian, carved to a fine sharp edge.

“What is all this?” 

“Some of the tools of my trade I guess. Been over two thousand years since I even opened it.”

“These are what you used to punish people? They’re much different than I imagined.” Dean could guess what the straps were used for, but the rest was a mystery. Well, except the knife.

“Physical penitence has always been around. For some, fasting or holding a physical position was enough to refocus themselves and cleanse their souls. Both those practices are still used today in religious life. For others, more severe physical punishment were utilized. Early practices included flagellation, chastity belts or cock cages, sleeping on beds of iron pins or unpolished wood- usually naked, and being tied to posts in the center of the village. When angles walked more freely among humanity, overseeing these acts were a part of our duties. Only a select few would be marked by God as irredeemable and smote to Hell. For the majority, we would guide them through restitution to God and their community.”

Dean cocked his head, “God-ordered BDSM huh? I thought he kinda frowned on anything but vanilla sex.”

Cas laughed lightly. “Most of the stuff you call ‘kink’ was first invented five or six millennia ago as means to purify a soul before God. There were some angels who objected to more masochistic forms of punishment because the penitent experienced both pain and pleasure. However, since the point of penance is to bring someone back into communion with others and with God, my experience was that their return was more peaceful when they felt the fullness of grace. To me, that should feel good, while also carrying the memory of the suffering endured. Eventually, angels no longer were tasked with any but the worst punishment; smiting a soul into Hell.” 

“So you haven’t used these since…”

“About 600 years before the birth of Christ.”

_2600-year old sex toys in the hands of someone who wouldn’t understand ‘erotic’ if you gave him a Powerpoint presentation. Awesome._

“The universe demands justice for what you’ve done Dean. Are you willing to submit to absolution? It means nothing without your consent.”

Dean searched Cas’ face for, what? What was he looking for? Mercy? Forgiveness? Cas was a mask of stone and suddenly Dean was aware of how much the 'Warrior of God' his friend still imbibed. As if in response to the presence of such a soldier, Dean could feel the Mark flare and he was reminded of why he needed this.

“I consent.”

“Okay then.” Cas stood up and unlocked the chains from Dean’s wrists, unwrapping it from around the radiator. Removing his trench coat, he pulled out the collar they had used on Crowley last year. “Come to the middle of the rug Dean.”

Dean’s ankles were still shackled, so he moved on his knees to the center of the room and held still while Cas attached the collar around his neck

“Hope you washed that.” The piercing look Cas gave in response was one he’d seen before and it always flooded him with instant arousal. Dean suddenly wondered if he was going to have to pay for his sass at some point and the rush it gave him went right to his cock. He winked at Cas as the chain was fed through the metal loop under his chin and then locked to the cuffs on both wrists. Dean wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry as he realized this was apt to push his experiences with Cas into highly sexual territory pretty fucking fast. Not like Cas would understand that.

“In consenting, you must do whatever I tell you to do, without question. Or sass.” Dean’s mouth turned up slightly. Cas walked a tight circle around him as he spoke. “You will not eat or sleep...” He was now standing in front of Dean again, and cupped a hand under his chin, forcing it up. He slid a foot snuggly between Dean’s legs, lifting up, putting pressure against his balls. “You will not come, unless I say so.” 

Dean’s eyes widened. “Restitution, at its roots, is based in love. You feel guilt because you have hurt your family and you have disappointed God. You are here to atone. Punishment that is not borne out of love is just vengeance, which is what the Mark craves. Yes, Dean, I am aware of the erotic nature of what I’m about to do.” 

Dean’s cock twitched. “How did you…”

“Out of respect for your privacy, I normally close myself to your mind unless you are speaking directly to me in prayer. But for this, you will have no privacy. I will know all your thoughts.” Dean immediately thought, _Blow me, Cas_

Cas grinned, “Maybe later.”

Dean’s cock was pulsing now. Had Cas really just said that? “You know, they have made some advances in sex toys since 6,000 BC.” 

“I did think about it. But I’m comfortable with these and how they work. However, I did concede to one advancement.” Cas pulled out a tube of lube from his back pocket and tossed it over to the open bag. “Using pork fat was disgusting.” Dean’s pupils dilated at the implication.

“Hold your hands out in front of you, palms up.” Cas ordered. “Shoulders back, chin high.” When Dean straightened his back, the chains rested across his chest, his thin t-shirt allowing him to feel the chain moving lightly across his nipples as he breathed. 

Cas grabbed hold of Dean’s right wrist firmly and pressed his thumb into the Mark for a few seconds. Dean let out a yell as it felt like he’d shoved his hand into an electrical circuit. “The Mark burns because it cannot handle the pureness of grace.”

“Even borrowed grace?” Dean grumbled.

“You tell me.” This time Cas covered the mark with his entire hand. Once again, Dean screamed loud as the bolts of energy surged through his arm, down his spine and out the tips of his toes. Cas lifted his hand, ending the torture, but held firm to Dean’s wrist. “Grace is the only thing that will save you.”

Cas stepped back, dropped Dean’s arm and gathered up the bag, placing it on the table beside the bed. “Put your hands out on the floor in a triangle, elbows slightly out, and rest your face on top. Keep your hips up.”

Dean complied but his muscles were still firing randomly from the surge of Grace vs. Mark and he found himself panting. The longer he sat, though, he was struck by how calming the position was. It took pressure off his knees and his hands created a perfect cradle for his face. He could feel his breath on his fingers. He tried dropping his hips and resting against his calves, but he quickly realized that cut off blood flow to his legs, so he lifted again.

“This is the penitent position. When people were brought before the garrison to atone, they held this position while their sins were read. They were also naked.” With a wave of angle fingers, Dean’s clothes vanished.

“Jeeze, Cas. Can’t even savor the striptease.” Cas delivered three sharp slaps across Dean’s now-exposed buttocks, causing him to suck in air. He’d forgotten how strong the angel was in the two years it had been since Cas had hit him.

“Penitents are also silent. I can hear your thoughts, so you don’t need to speak.” 

_You hit like a girl_

Three more slaps, the last one grazing the back of his balls, making him see stars. Then he could feel Cas rest an arm across his shoulders, indicating Cas was squatting down next to him again.

“Respectful contrition is part of the process Dean. I know you and all your defense mechanisms, but I want you to consider that if you are being defensive then none of this will do for you what you want it to. Hold this position.” Cas walked over to his bag and worked quietly, leaving Dean with his thoughts.

_What do you think this is going to do? I just want you to just put an end to this. To me. To keep me from being a monster._

The muscles in his forearm twitched around the Mark. It felt sort of itchy, which was new. He was used to it hurting, but now it was like how your gums feel when you eat the center of a pineapple, only worse. He lifted his head enough to look at it. It wasn’t as dark as it had been and seemed fatter. Then he remembered Cas’ order and put his face back down. 

He allowed himself to take in the sensations he was feeling. The room was at about 70, but without clothes, felt cool. The chain binding his wrists to his neck was settled on the floor underneath him, but he could still feel the weight of it pulling on the neck cuff. The chain around his waist went right through the crack of his ass, which he decided he didn’t like so much. He cantered his hips back and forth to see if he could get it to move to one side or the other. As he did so, it rolled across the areas Cas had swatted and he felt the soreness. As whuppin’s went, it wasn’t all that bad. His father had doled out worse. Even Bobby had once when he’d really fucked up and nearly gotten Sam killed when they were kids. He was also hauntingly aware that this was hardly the worst thing Cas was going to do.

That got him thinking about what could be coming and he felt himself stiffen. Cas had admitted that he was “aware of the erotic nature of what I’m about to do.” Did that mean that Cas had spent time as a Dom!Angel? God, why was that so hot to think about? If nothing else, these thoughts gave him something to live for. Even if they were simply another thing to add to the list of sins that he assumed would be read at some point. Cas had also said that restitution was about love. He knew Cas loved him. Sammy loved him too. Their love was the reason he wasn’t a demon anymore. But that’s not the same as being in love. Or in lust. 

_At least you could warm the room up a bit._

“I thought about upping the temperature, but it won’t be long before you are apt to have a rise in core temperature, so I decide to wait. You’re not shivering at this point, but I will pay attention.

“Dean Winchester, you are guilty of (1) lying to me and your brother about the Mark of Cain and its effects, (2) sending a shape shifter to purgatory in a misuse of your call, and (3) sending five human souls into death, which is only for God to decree. For these sins you will be purged of your wickedness by the hands of your guardian according to the wrath and will of God. You may sit up Dean.”

Dean looked over at the lube and then at the items on the table. Was one of these things gonna end up inside him?

“Time to begin. You will be silent now. Try to clear your thoughts.”

Dean nodded his head and waited for what Cas was going to do next.

“Please return to the penitent position.” 

Dean felt Cas kneel beside him as he unlocked the chain from his waist and let it fall to the floor. Next Cas reached under and grabbed his junk. _Goin’ straight for the good stuff huh, Cas?_

“Not exactly,” came the gravelly reply as Dean felt what must be the small iron cage clamp around his cock and balls. In that moment, he was glad he’d gone soft while he’d sat thinking. His penis was forced downward, the tip now squeezed between the bottom of his scrotum and the cold metal. It was a very tight fit and the weight of the cage pulled both downward. It wasn’t cutting, but it was going to really start to hurt if he got aroused.

“It’s not really a question of ‘if' you’ll get aroused, Dean.” Cas was now rubbing the soft lambskin over his back, across his ass and down the back of his legs. He could also feel it bump and rub across the backside of the ball cage, which wasn’t quite as pleasant.

“Raise your hips as high as you can Dean. And lift your feet on your toes.” Dean had been sitting with the tops of his feet flush the ground. Sitting with them this way reminded him of one of the big no-nos of junior high wrestling: don’t make our feet into handles that your opponent could grip a hold of and flip you over. It was only when he felt the polished wooden cane rest lightly against the soles of his feet that he realized why Cas was putting him in this position.

“In order for the pain to mean something, it must be memorable. You will feel it when you walk, when you sit, when you lie down. It will serve as a reminder of not only your wrongs, but to serve as proof to **you** that you have atoned. Try to keep your breathing steady. Ready?”

_Quit fuckin’ teasing me and just do it._

He’d expected the first to land across his feet, but instead there was a stinging slap high across both cheeks of his ass and he gasped. He’d never been caned before and it fucking hurt. Cas bounced the cane in rapid slaps on one cheek. These stung but were nothing like the first blow. Suddenly, *thwak* as another hard slap landed on his left cheek only. Cas shifted the rapid-fire to his right cheek, while rubbing the lambskin over the left. The wool was soft and tickled a little. He focused on the feeling of the tickle as much as he could. *Thwak* another blow on his right cheek. 

“Argh!” Dean could no longer hold silence. Cas was only rubbing now, lightly massaging the wool over red and welting skin.

“For the last year, you have lied about the Mark’s effect on you Dean. You dismissed Sam and my concerns. Downplayed what was happening to you. Denied it entirely to both of us.”

 _I was handling it._ A stinging slap across the soles of his feet was the response and this time he screamed out, panting. _OW, shit! I didn’t say I was handling it well!_

“You were selfish and arrogant. You never expect that we can help. You never want our help.”

The rubbing stopped, but Dean was not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

 _I couldn’t face your disappointment._ This time the blow was across the back of his thighs, though Cas was careful not to hit the ball cage, which now swung achingly.

“It wasn’t just our disappointment. You kept it secret for a reason.”

 _No. No, I was handling it…_ Another blow hit his feet and he instinctively lowered his hips, moaning.

“What was the reason, Dean?” Cas rested the cane across his feet as indication of what would come if he lied.

“It made me feel powerful!” Dean cried out, tears falling from the pain. Silence hung in the air.

“It did. Sit up, Dean. Come on.” Dean straightened at the waist and Cas unlocked the chain that bound his ankles. “Stand up and go lie down on the bed. On your stomach.” The feeling of being able to stretch his legs was immediately overcome by the pain in his feet when he stood up. He walked on the balls of his feet in two quick bounds and laid down carefully, shifting to find a place where the ball cage didn’t torque painfully. He gave up and opted for laying slightly on one hip, tenting his body enough that the cage rested on the mattress, but wasn’t being pinned against it. 

Cas sat on the end of the bed and began massaging some kind of oil onto Dean’s feet, gently moving fingers over the two sore, red lines. “It wasn’t our disappointment you feared. It was that we’d tell you to give up the power. And you wanted to keep it.”

“I wanted to kill Abbadon.”

“Roll on your back, Dean” Dean complied, but instantly regretted it. The quilt grated roughly against his bruised and sensitive ass.

Cas poured a small pool of oil in his hand. For the first time, Dean caught the distinctive aroma. It wasn’t exactly floral or spicy, but something in between.

“It’s frankincense.” Cas replied to the unasked question. He then proceeded to drizzle it over the ball cage, letting it ooze in between the bars. Cas started to rub lightly, pressing gently so the oil could move around, coating his balls and penis. It felt warm, but Dean soon realized how quickly it would get uncomfortable as aroused bloodflow thickened tissue. He saw the flesh of his cock strain and bubble between the bars. Cas kept massaging but there was nowhere for his building erection to go.

Dean threw his head back against the pillow. “Alright! I used killing Abbadon as my excuse to not get rid of the Mark once I realized what it was doing!”

“Almost. If you get there, I’ll take the cage off.”

“What?! What more do you want?” Cas flipped him over like he was paper, wedging the ball cage underneath him, making him hiss.

In a completely unexpected move, Cas began kissing his exposed rear end. Lightly, soft lips, all over. Dean cantered his hips up so the cage wasn’t pressed underneath him. He half-expected a slap to the ass, but instead, Cas only seemed pleased and started to slide his tongue down the crack. Dean reveled in the sensation, but it quickly faded. Cas’s ministrations were sending bolts straight to his cock, which was straining and pulling, desperate to achieve full erection. _Stop, Cas. Stop._

Cas stopped kissing, but kept caressing, which while not as intense, did nothing to stem the flow of blood to his pinched and throbbing member.

“OK, I get it. I, I, I, kept the Mark’s effects hidden because it meant I didn’t have to face what I’d done to Sammy. I wanted it to hurt me. I wanted to give in to its darkness so I wouldn’t have to face what I’d done to Sam.”

By angel mojo, the cage was gone and his cock sprang forth. Cas stood up. 

“Get into the position. On the bed is fine.”

Dean drew his knees underneath him and brought his hands into the triangle. Cas reached under, him and began stroking him, sliding up and down, tossing in a twist of his wrist every few strokes. His dick was sore to the touch, as was the feeling of Cas’ pants against his welted ass, but Cas kept going, bringing him closer.

_Cas, please, I can’t hold off much…_ and like that, Cas withdrew his hand, leaving Dean’s sore, leaking cock swinging.

“Dean, I absolve your guilt of the sin of lying.”

********

Following the first absolution, Cas had wrapped Dean in the quilt and left him to sleep for an hour. At first, Dean couldn’t sleep. He had wrapped his hand around his dick, jerking a few times before remembering Cas’ demand that he only come when allowed. Part of him wanted to see what Cas would do, but he realized that he had a more powerful desire to please the angel. To show him he could be strong. Dean laid on his side, arms still bearing the weight of the chain. He focused on how his arms were tired, which lead to his legs and feet being tired and on up to his brain, where slumber overtook him.

He woke up slowly, aware of Cas removing the chain from Dean’s wrist and neck, though the cuffs still stayed in place. Now that Cas was back, Dean’s heart leapt. Cas smiled, “We’ll see how long that enthusiasm for me lasts. Put your hands over your head.” Cas threaded the chain through the bars of the headboard and then relocked his wrist cuffs to it.  
He could still feel the ache from the canning he’d endured as he laid on his back, arms stretched over his head. Cas was sitting next to him on the bed and held up one of the bronze pins. This one was in a U shape, the bend having several close coils. When Cas squeezed the arms of the U, the coils separated. Dean wasn’t sure what Cas intended until the angel started to massage and pull on one of his nipples.

“Ancient nip clamps, Cas?” Dean had been clamped before, so he knew what to expect. Still, the coils didn’t look tight enough to actually hurt at all. But if it meant Cas might suck on ‘em, well, he was all for it.

Cas delivered a sharp slap to each nipple and pulled harder. He then blew a cool breath across one, causing it to become firm. Cas pinched the tip, drawing it forward and then set the squeezed the coil into the flesh behind the nipple. When he let go, the arms of the clamp pointed downward, like an inverted ‘V’. That was when Dean noticed the ends were slightly curled. He knew that meant something could be attached to it.

_Son of a bitch. You wouldn’t lick ‘em because I asked, huh._

Cas was busy repeating the clamp on the opposite side, but he looked into Dean’s bright green eyes and said, “Yes. Because you asked.” Then Cas lightly tapped each one of the clamps and Dean was overcome with pulsing vibrations, flowing out and in, almost like an orgasm but not quite. His cock was instantly hard and he closed his eyes, breathing shallowly.

“Grace interacts with natural elements. Grace separated the waters and created land and sky.” He tapped the clamp arms again, sending another wave of vibrations through Dean’s body, followed quickly by another. The waves slammed into each other and Dean wasn’t sure he could take it. His breathing quickened and pre-come oozed out the tip of his achingly hard penis. He’d never come without someone stroking him, but if this kept up, he would.

As he rode the waves under his skin, Cas started to wrap one of the thin leather strips around Dean’s scrotum and the base of his penis. The pressure that had built was now held tight in the restricted ties. 

Dean felt almost drunk from the vibrations, but was aware enough to know that tying him up like this could be dangerous.

Cas was now massaging some of the frankincense oil in long strokes up and down his shaft and Dean was getting lost in the power of the sensations. “Normally, yes Dean, trussing up someone’s genitalia is not a wise idea. But I’ve had some experience at this. You will not be permanently damaged.”

 _Don’t fuckin’ care as long as you keep doin’ that._

Cas kept stroking, circling his hand tightly around the shaft, twisting slightly on the upstroke, sliding up over the glans and back down. Quickening his pace, he tightened his grip.

_Oh, Cas, that’s it. Faster. I’m almost_

Suddenly Cas stopped and Dean’s eyes flew open. “There is much work to be done first, Dean” He hissed and flexed against the chains holding his wrists in frustration.

“Spread your legs as far apart as you can.” Dean widened his legs and noted how his junk didn’t fall between them. They were trussed up tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey and he realized that his erection wasn’t going to subside because it couldn’t. Hard, thick and erect, the balls tethered to his rock-hard dick were pulled close and tight. The blue-ball ache was setting in fast and he knew how exposed he was. Even a slight brush against the now deep-red orbs was going to hurt like hell.

Cas kneeled between Dean’s legs and began running the tips of his fingers up the insides of Dean’s thighs, his fingertips slick from the oil. Dean looked down to see that Cas had shed his own pants and shirt, wearing only a pair of grey boxer-briefs. It thrilled him to see that Cas was hard, straining against cotton.

“What’s your motto Dean? Saving people. Hunting Things. The Family Business.” Cas slid his hands up and tapped the clamps again. Dean’s body thrummed and he lifted his hips up off the bed in autonomic response.

“Something like that, yeah.” Dean’s voice thick arousal. 

“Silence!” Cas flicked a finger hard at Dean’s scrotum and he let out a yelp. 

_Fuck you!_

“What about saving things, Dean?” Cas went back to the achingly light strokes up his thighs, over his abdomen and down his arms as if nothing had happened. When he drew his hands back downward, he would tap the clamps and the vibrations would once again envelop Dean. He looked at his cock, which glistened from oil and pre-come. If he had any hope of release, he needed to start paying attention to what Cas was saying. He looked at his angel, focused on the bulge in Cas’ shorts, and noted the small wet spot that had formed.

Cas reached down into the underwear and pulled out his cock and began stroking, hitching the waistband with his thumb. “You like this.” It wasn’t a question. 

_Hell yes._

“But I’m not a person, Dean.” Cas kept stroking slowly and Dean now missed having Cas’ warm hands all over him. In response, Cas touched one of the clamps again and then went back to masturbating. Dean watched, but the vibrations didn’t satisfy like they had before. He wanted Cas’ touch. 

_You’re human enough_

“So I deserve saving, is that it? What about Benny?”

Dean laid his head back and closed his eyes. Why the fuck did Cas have to bring up Benny?

Cas leaned forward and licked a strip up Dean’s cock and then let his lips hover the tip. “Because you let him do this. To you. In purgatory.” And then Cas’ mouth enveloped him, sucking gently, which was about all he could take right now. He tried to let his mind go blank, but Cas’s mouth and mentioning Benny merged the two and the image of Benny, on his knees sucking him deep as Dean leaned against a tree after slaying a particularly nasty group of Leviathan filled his brain. He watched as Benny’s lips strained around him. He grabbed the back of the vamp’s head, setting the pace, plunging faster until he just held him still, fucking his mouth harder…

And it was gone. He opened his eyes and Cas was just kneeling there, hands resting on thighs. Dean threw his head back and groaned harshly at another orgasm denial. 

“What makes some *things* deserve killing and others not, Dean?” Cas was giving him the same quizzical looks he would when Dean used to talk about Star Wars; before Metatron’s brain dump.

_Can I speak?_

“You may.”

Dean grabbed hold of the chain above his hands and pulled himself into a more reclined position. This also served to pull him farther away from Cas. The angel noticed but did nothing.

“You can’t do this. You can’t compare Benny or Kate or even you to what I do. I save lives.”

“You have, Dean. My father called you the Righteous Man. But are you still?”

Cas reached out and brushed the Mark again, jolting Dean’s arm. The electric surge faded quickly this time, but his mind filled with the slaughter he’d committed since it had been etched onto his skin, ending with him emptying a clip-worth of bullets into the body of a shapeshifter.

“Did she have to die, Dean? Is her story any less tragic than Kate’s or Benny’s?”

“She was killing people.” Dean knew he was being defensive, but what else was there?

Cas came in closer, nestling his knees slightly under Dean’s legs. He leaned in, inches from his face. Dean watched as Cas lightly sucked on his lips the way he always did when he was thinking, focused. “You can’t save everyone. But you used to try. I loved how you tried.” And Cas’ lips were on his. Warm and soft, Dean opened his mouth, using his tongue to explore. Then Dean’s mind was filled with images of Bobby standing by the hidden bookcase, telling a frightened mother that it was safer this way. He watched as the young girl climbed the staircase. Dean felt her fear, her sadness, her loneliness and confusion. 

Cas was still kissing him, but he’d stopped responding. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The shifter had only killed one person when he got there. The arrival of he and Sam had triggered the rest. He’d dealt with shifters enough that he should have thought of one as a possibility. He had, but dismissed it. All he would have had to do was pretend to take a few selfies and he would have seen it. In the end, she might have been too damaged to let go free, but he hadn’t bothered to even find out. He just unloaded six shots into her lifeless form.

Cas was kissing the tears now, and then moved on to his ear. Dean realized the angel was straddling him, thrusting against him. The fabric of Cas’ briefs was harsh against his swollen cock, but in an instant the underwear was gone. Cas’ hand stroking them both now and Dean became aware that his balls and dick were no longer bound.

Cas pinched one of the clamps between his finger and thumb. The prolonged contact of grace to metal filled Dean with a heady rush of vibrations that fired all the pleasure sensors in his brain at once. He wished his hands were free so he could grab hold of Cas and suddenly they were. He grabbed Cas’ shoulders, thrusting upward. Cas picked up the pace, stroking them both with increasing speed. 

Dean pulled Cas’ face closer to him, covering his mouth, thrusting his tongue in and out in the same rhythm. He was building quickly. _Please, Cas_

Cas tapped each clamp in succession and whispered, “You may come, Dean”. The explosion of his orgasm, coupled with the surging vibrations send him literally backwards, double strands of white shooting up and leaving splashes across his abdomen. Drops of Cas’ come hit the clamps and he felt pulses of energy radiate through his pectorals. He saw stars and his breathing stopped momentarily as Cas milked them both through the crest of their orgasms.

Dean pulled Cas beside him, wrapping the angel in a hug using his left arm. Instinctively, he kept his right arm away from Cas’ naked body. 

Cas reached up and unclamped Dean’s nipples and Dean gave a dry scream of pain as the vibrations disappeared once the metal was gone. Cas gave each a quick lick in turn, but they were so sore and sensitive, that Dean could only suck in air. 

Overcome with exhaustion, Dean held Cas tightly as the angel covered them with the heavy quilt. Cas laid a hand over Dean’s heart, his head nestled at his shoulder. As Dean slipped into slumber, he heard Cas whisper, “Dean, I absolve your guilt of the sin of slaughter.”

******

Cas awoke and laid quietly, listening to Dean’s shallow breathing. Never in his time in the garrison had he gotten so involved in the penance. He knew that he was triggering sexual pleasure as well as physical pain in the humans seeking to atone, but he had never felt any sexual response of his own. Angels didn’t have sexual responses. Or at least he hadn’t. Until Dean. In thousands of years, he’d never even experienced orgasm until last October, but he had to admit that this one he’d just had with Dean was rockets above the one with April. He knew, in his essence, the difference love made. Now he knew it in his body and in his grace. Or his borrowed grace anyway. That made him wonder if he still had his own, would it have felt even stronger. He couldn’t imagine that, but also hoped that would be so.

For now, Cas relished the chance to lay snuggled close to Dean, his hand roaming over firm, muscled abdomen, fluttering lightly up to brush over still-engorged nipples, causing Dean to flinch in his sleep. Cas kissed the left one, letting his tongue feel its stiffness and take in the raised edges from where the clamps had been. He felt Dean’s hand card through his hair and sucked the flesh into his mouth. Dean hissed, pulled Cas by the hair. Cas let go with a soft ‘pop’.

“Too much, Dude.” Dean looked at him with sleepy, green eyes

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” Cas propped himself up on one elbow. “We should probably get you some food.”

Dean stretched tired muscles, mentally cataloging all the places on his body that were bruised and sore. His usual home-remedy would help tremendously. “And whiskey.”

Cas rolled off the bed, standing up and heading to the dresser. Sam and Dean had been kind enough to get him jeans, sweatpants, socks, t-shirts, and flannel…all your basic hunter attire. Opening a drawer he pulled out a pair of light grey sweats. As he stepped into them he said, “Sorry, no alcohol. Dulls your senses and blurs your mind.” He turned to see Dean had been watching him get dressed. The look on his face was a mixture of lust and disbelief, like a child given a four scoop sundae. Cas smiled shyly, “I want a cheeseburger. How about you?”

At the mention of food, Dean hopped up, but when he did, he remembered the welts on the soles of his feet and yelped. But after a few moments of standing, the pain receded to a heavy ache.

“They’ll feel better once you have shoes on.”

“Oh really? You been caned across the feet much?”

Cas nodded. “The first year I met you. Uriel took me for a while. Remember.”

Dean’s heart squeezed tightly. He remembered. _”I was growing too close to the humans in my charge. You.”_

“I can’t imagine Dickless was as much fun as you are.”

Cas chuckled, “No.”

“Alright. You wanna go out or eat here?”

“You make cheeseburgers?”

“Oh, Cas, buddy, you have no idea. Let me grab some clothes.” There was a tingle and suddenly he was dressed. “That’s freaky as hell, you know that?” Dean looked down. He had on warm, blue fleece pants, thick athletic socks and slippers that felt like they were made of the memory foam from his bed. He was shirtless, but so was Cas.

“They are memory foam.” Cas added as he gently propelled Dean towards the door. 

“They remember me!” Dean grinned.

*******

They sat at the center island in the kitchen, finishing their burgers, Cokes and some tater tots.

Cas held up a single tater tot, “When I was human, these were one of my greatest joys. Tater tots and peanut butter.”

Dean took a swig of his soda, “Ugh, together?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” Cas hesitated, taking a few moments to catch up, “Definitely not together. But sadly, neither one holds the same flavor for me now. Humans are so lucky to have food. And tastebuds.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we’d all rather eat than have angelic power and the ability to fly” Dean answered sarcastically.

“Coveting what you don’t have is not only a human foible apparently.” Cas popped the tot into his mouth.

“Hard to believe it’s 5pm already. Unless he stayed for supper, Sam should be on his way back now.” Dean wiped his fingers on a paper napkin and tossed it on his empty plate.

“You should call him and check.”

“Why? Won’t make much difference. He won’t be back until 10 or so.”

“Dean, this last one is…”

Dean sat up straighter, studying Cas closely. “Is what?”

Cas looked at him, his expression full of pity. “Dean, you killed five human beings. That’s one of the big ones. No matter how you define or understand God, murder is not allowed. In ancient times, the only absolution was death. Unless there were extenuating circumstances.”

“What counted as extenuating circumstances?” Dean was agitated and wracked with guilt. The images of blood spurting from veins, fat and nerves rolling out of slices of flesh filled his mind and he shook his head as if that would purge the movie playing over and over behind his eyes.

“Well, all five were either attempting or abetting the sexual violation of an innocent. That is certainly extenuating.”

Dean took that in. He would like to say it he’d only done it because the fuckers had tried to rape a teenage girl. But he knew differently.

Cas continued, “But even with such a motive, the penitent had to be scarred somehow. Something to show the world that punishment for such actions was severe. Some communities would sever a hand, an ear or remove an eye. Others preferred castration.”

“Oh, shit, Cas. I can’t…” Dean was shaking now.

“Dean, I’m not prepared to do anything so brutal. But that is the level we are talking about. I’m just not sure what to do.”

“Ok, well, while you think on that, I’m gonna see if I can stall Sammy a while.”

“Dean, I don’t…” 

“Shove it, Cas. I’m all in. I know what’s needed. And I can’t do it if Sammy’s here. So, you go think while I call my brother. I’ll meet you back in your room. I promise.” Dean grabbed his cell from the front pocket of his pants and hit the speed dial as he walked out of the kitchen.

*******

Dean found Cas sitting lotus-style on his bed half an hour later.

“Sam’s gonna stay over at Jodi’s just to make sure Claire is settled.”

“Did you tell him why?”

“I told him that you were not quite finished with the ritual but that I was fine and you were, whatever you are.”

Cas bowed his head, a sad smile on his face. When all this was over, Dean would never tell Sam about any of it. Not really. Sam would ask a thousand questions and Dean would shut every one of them down.

“So, you, uh, have a plan there Cas?” Dean climbed onto the bed, crossing his legs to sit in front of Cas.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Um, what does that mean?”

“It means that I don’t know. I’ve been meditating on it and the only thing I’m getting is that sometimes, you just can’t plan.”

“You saying we’re gonna just start this and then you’ll, you’ll, what, improvise?” Dean waved his hand in a circle.

“Yes.”

Dean looked sternly at Cas, whose face was calm yet determined. “OK.”

Dean stood up, slipped his pants, socks and slippers off. He noted that Cas’ room was much warmer than it had been earlier, probably close to 80. He knelt on the floor, resuming the penitent position and waited.

Cas got up and went to kneel in front of Dean. He placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders and bowed so he could speak directly into his ear.

“Dean, this time, the only pleasure I can offer is just enough to help you endure the pain. I can’t kiss or caress you. I can’t let you orgasm. This one will cause me torment because I can’t be gentle or ease it away. I can only sit with you as you get through it. You may speak or shout as you wish, but otherwise, you must obey. Your compliance is essential. Do you understand?”

_I get it, Cas. Thank-you. I need you. You’re the only one who can do this. I’m sorry you have to._

Cas gave him a soft kiss on his ear and stood up. The first thing Dean felt was the cold of some kind of metal circle being attached around his balls and there was instant humming through his scrotum and up his spine. He was awash in serotonin and became instantly aroused, his dick thickening quickly. But he could feel something like a needle poking into his leg.

_I trust you, Cas, but this will easier if you tell me what you’re doing._

“OK. I linked five of the bronze straight pins into a circle, like the one that surrounds your anti-possession tattoo. The pricks you feel are the ends of the pins. You will need to keep your legs apart or they could poke you and draw blood.”

 _Are you still touching it, because the vibrations are, woah._ Dean was fully hard now.

“I fused them using my grace, so they will continue to react like that until I take them off.”

Dean’s skin took on a rosy flush from the sensations vibrating through him. He longed to stroke himself but held firm. Cas had already warned him that this wasn’t how it was gonna go down. 

Music filled the quiet space in his head. _In the days of my youth, I was told what it means to be a man. Now, I’ve reached that age I’ve tried to do all those things the best that I can. No matter how I try I find my way to the same old jam. Good times, bad times, you know I’ve had my share._

“Cas, did you just pipe in Zeppelin for me?”

“Yeah.” Cas’s voice was tight as Dean felt pressure in the one place he knew had to come eventually. He’d done this before, so he forced himself to relax as much as he could with the constant thrumming in his balls.

“Dean, I need to prepare you. But I don’t want to tell you exactly what is coming just yet. I’m not sure it will work or if I even should.”

_Cas, whatever, man. Just, do it._

The song had changed to Dazed and Confused. He’d credit Cas with a well-thought playlist if he didn’t already know it was the next song on the Mothership album.

“This is the smallest one I have. I’ll see if it is enough.” 

Dean felt a sharp, burning pain as Cas inserted something inside him. He breathed out in fast huffs. “Fuuuuck.” When Cas had whatever it was seated, he tried to flex his sphincter open as far as he could and relaxed it again. Suddenly it felt very warm and then the Mark started to send spasms up and down his arm. His fingers went numb and his shoulder shook.

“What, what is, Oh fuck Cas, what is it doing?”

“It’s a quartz crystal. Crystals amplify the grace on a different frequency than the bronze. It’s not as pleasant.”

“Yeah, no shit. But, arrgh, my arm.” Tears stung his eyes and he tried to force the crystal from his ass but it held firm.

“Dean you have to try and be still. My hope is that by doing it this way, the grace will affect the Mark, like it does when I touch it, but without the strain to your nervous system.”

Dean panted hard now. His brain was starting to repress the pain sensors, but his arm wouldn’t move. The erection he’d sported at the beginning was gone now and he could feel one of the pins poking painfully into his penis as it hung low.

Without even having to ask, Cas reached under and shifted him so it rested between the pins. Having the angel read his mind was gonna come in handy when he couldn’t form cohesive thoughts.

“We will now begin the penance.”

Dean lifted his head slightly. “What the fuck we been doing so far?”

“I’m trying to neutralize the Mark as well.”

“Fucking-A, Cas.”

“Dean, I…”

“Get on with it, dammit!” Dean yelled.

“There must be restitution for each soul taken. Ten lashes per life. I will give you a rest between.”

_50 lashes. Shit. ___

Cas took the leather strap. He’d oiled it earlier to soften it up. Not that it would help much. “I’m going to start with your back, since your rear is still red from this morning. Then I’ll flip you over and the second will be across the front of your thighs. Third, I’ll do the backs of your thighs. Fourth your chest. I will not hit your butt until the last one. By then we will know if the crystal has done his job. I’d prefer it if I can remove it before we do the last one.”

_You and me both, man_

“I will count for you. Straighten your back Dean.” 

Dean lifted himself up onto his palms. His right arm was still numb, so he locked it underneath him and hoped he could stay up through it all. The first lash landed across his shoulders. It stung but he’d endured worse.

“One. Two-three-four.” The next three came in rapid succession, all on his shoulder blades.

“Shitshitshitshit.” Dean’s breathing was fast and uncontrolled.

“Dean, take slower breaths or you will pass out. I’m not allowed to continue unless you are conscious.” Dean drew a long, slow inhale and held for a few seconds.

“Is it more manageable if I go slower?” They had 46 more to go. Dragging it out was absolutely not going to help. “No,” he croaked.

Cas dealt him four more lashes, each one in a slightly different part of his back. That helped. Dean was letting out a deep cry with each one now, and he flashed back to his early days in hell.

The last two landed on his lower back and he slumped prostrate again.

Cas was immediately beside him, rubbing some kind of salve on his skin. Dean wasn’t sure if he’d broken skin, his back was just on fire.

“I did not break the skin, but your welts are substantial. Dean, can I see the Mark?”

Dean instinctively wanted to protect it. The grace within him was still present and the idea of Cas touching it was more that he could bear.

“I’m not going to touch it, I promise."

He sat up. It was impossible to move his arm freely, so that was the only way to expose the inside of his forearm. The mark was a deep red, but wasn’t as raised as it used to be. After Sam and Cas had cured him of being a demon, it had faded to a light pink, but it still was thick and bumpy. Now it was darker, but flatter. Was that a good sign or a bad one?

“I think it’s a good one.” Cas answered the unspoken question. “But it’s not gone far enough.” 

“What’s that mean?” Dean didn’t really want to ask.

“Different crystal structures respond differently. Quartz is the clearest, but has the least resonance. Amethyst would amplify it more."

“Let me guess, the amethyst is bigger.”

Cas gave a weak nod. “But only slightly. And it’s more curved at the bottom, so it should rest more comfortably.

Dean leaned back forward and rested his head on his left fist. Cas stood up and went over to the table, selecting the light purple polished stone. He coated it in a generous amount of lube and went back over to kneel behind Dean. When as he started to tug the other stone’s craggy edge, Dean pushed with his muscles, aiding it’s slide out. 

As soon as the crystal was gone, all the nerves began firing again at once. Dean let out scream, grabbed his arm, pinching in his right armpit to try and cut off the feeling of a thousand razor blades racing through his veins.

Cas dropped the amethyst and wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling him in a tight hug. The image of Demon!Dean in a similar pose, screaming, filled both their minds.

“I got you. I got you. Shhh, I got you.” Cas spoke quietly and calmly right into Dean’s ear, not letting go. They rocked like that for several minutes. Dean’s breathing settled enough for him to realize Ramble On had come on.

“This is my favorite song.”

Cas nuzzled at his neck. “I know.”

“Right. Mind meld."

Cas chuckled, “Actually, no. Carver Edlund’s books."

Dean gave a laugh. “That fucker.”

Cas released him and Dean was instantly sorry for the loss. Cas stood and then offered Dean a hand up. Dean hesitated. “Don’t you need to put the…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I’m thinking it might be better to get you on the bed first.” Dean nodded and accepted the hand up. When he did he was instantly reminded of the need to keep his legs spread.

“Gotta say, your little joy buzzer ain’t doin’ much.”

“I know. I’m going to see if I can’t fix that a bit. But remember, I can only do so much.” He helped Dean lay down on the smooth sheet, having chucked the quilt on the floor earlier. Compared to everything else, laying down on a sore ass and raw back wasn’t all that bad. But it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

Cas carefully positioned his legs so his feet were flat on the bed and his knees fell outward. Cas undid the bronze star that had hung around Dean’s scrotum. He’d thought it wasn’t doing much, but its absence meant he felt everything now and he moaned and huffed trying to process it all as every neuron screamed from assault.

“Breathe Dean.” Working quickly, Cas used his grace to fuse two pins together end to end. Then he bent them into a circle that he enclosed around the base of Dean’s penis. His grace fused the cock ring closed. It was not tight, but would be snug if Dean got erect. The vibrations once again flowed through him and he relaxed like he’d been given a shot of Demerol. Cas continued to work on his dick, so Dean just let the sensations wash over him and focused on the beat of Since I’ve Been Loving You. If he had some ‘shrooms, this would be a great night. Certain he must be hallucinating anyway, he looked down to see Cas suck the head of his cock between thin, pink lips. He sighed at the hot, wet silkiness of Cas’ tongue and mouth before saying huskily, “If you can’t make me come, I’d rather not endure the teasing.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to get you hard enough for this is stay put.” 

Dean looked at the golden rings, one encircling the base of his shaft, the other right under the fleshy head of his glans. Cas took another pin, lined it up between the two rings and fused them with his grace. The vibrations hummed fuller and rocked through his body. He felt them roll out the tips of his toes and tickle each hair follicle. Dean closed his eyes and sighed, rocking his hips in time with the waves. “That’s pretty sweet, Cas.”

“Dean, I need to insert the crystal now.”

“Whatever.” Dean sounded stoned.

Cas refreshed the lube on the chunk of amythyst and spread Dean wide. “Lift your hips up and hold them Dean.” Cas held the crystal by the blackened bottom, so as to limit when his grace came in contact with the purple stone. It had been impossible with the quartz, but this one’s base was not polished, so he hoped he could save that until the last moment.

Dean felt the pressure of it starting to enter. He relaxed and opened himself up to it, the first one having done its part to stretch him out. When it seated, he was surprised at how satisfyingly full it felt. And the bronze cock-ring-tube thingy Cas had created was working great!

“Brace yourself.” Cas inserted a lubed finger and touched the crystal..

Dean’s scream filled the room. His right arm flew out straight and Dean immediately started clawing at the Mark, as if he could rip it off with his bare hands. Cas threw himself on the writhing man, pinning Dean’s left arm away from his right, covering his whole body, holding him down.

Dean’s voice grew hoarse and then he went still. Cas checked his pulse. It was steady. Dean had just passed out. Cas shifted himself so that he had as much body contact with Dean as he could, while not putting any weight on him. He whispered softly into his ear and waited.

Dean was out for about three minutes. When he awoke, he felt like his whole right side was numb. He raised his left arm behind Cas and ran his fingers through his hair. Cas wanted nothing better than to sit there and cuddle, but there were still 40 lashes to go.

“You ready?”

 _To let you go? Never._ Then Dean croaked out a rough, “Yeah.” And brought his legs together, bracing himself.

He could see the strap now. He’d been sure that Cas had used the longer strap on his back, but this one was short and stiff. 

“I did use the other one before. But smaller area needs more control. I don’t want to lash your testicles by mistake.”

_Thank heaven for small favors._

“I’m going to just do these fast without stopping. OK?”

Dean nodded. He closed his eyes, focused on the thrumming vibrations and tried to block out the constant electrical charge that was running up his spine and out his right arm. He was pretty sure this crystal was hitting his prostate, which gave him yet another pleasure-pain point to deal with. Stairway to Heaven was on now and he swore it had gotten louder.

True to his word, Cas lashed his thighs hard and fast. The blows melded without any recovery time and he just fisted the sheets and gave a long, low, guttural cry, then it was done. 

_Cas?_

“Yes?” Dean looked at the angel and could see the sweat on his face.

_Just do the next twenty. I can take it._

“I’m afraid I’ll break the skin if I do too many in one place.”

_I don’t care. I’d rather endure stitches than have this thing in my ass any longer than I have to. Plus, I don’t think I can move anyway._

“Alright.” Cas moved to the other side of the bed, so he could at least have a different angle on the blows. He reached out and touched the brass ring at the top of Dean’s cock, sending a strong surge of vibrations and then landed ten more lashes as fast as he could.

Dean just moaned now, his mind blank of any thoughts for Cas to read. He probed Dean’s mind to make sure he was still conscious and then went back around to the other side and began swinging. The last three blows broke skin, but Cas immediately applied gauze and then some kind of ointment.

Dean’s breathing was shallow and he barely whispered, “Forty.”

“That’s right, Dean. You’re almost there.”

Cas looked down and studied the Mark. It was a deep purple now but still formed a welt. “I’m sorry Dean.” Cas offered as he pressed his finger to it. Dean rolled and cried but didn’t, or couldn’t, pull away. Cas felt like acid was oozing under his skin, but it wasn’t as strong as it was before. It was working, but wasn’t there yet. Letting go, Dean huffed out rapid breaths.

_Well?_

“Not yet. But it’s close. Where do you want the last ones?"

Dean was on the downward edge now. Pain was everywhere, but that also meant there wasn’t much more to do. And there was a purity to it. Like he’d felt in purgatory, only deeper. He might as well go all the way and make it worth it.

_I don’t think I can get into position though._

Careful to avoid the Mark, Cas rolled Dean over to his left until he was on his belly. Using his good arm, Dean helped push himself so he was sliding down the bottom edge of the bed until his knees hit the floor. He gripped the sheet with his left fist holding on. His right just laid limply above his head.

_Make ‘em count, Cas._

“I will. I’m proud of you.”

Cas stood to Dean’s left, knowing that his right side held less feeling for the first five lashes. Cas tried to avoid landing any blows in a way that would hit or jostle the crystal. Dean was just keening now and Cas could tell he was desperately holding on to consciousness, so he hopped to the other side for the last five. When he was done, Dean let go and slumped the floor.

Cas sat on the rug pulling Dean’s torso up into his lap. He wrapped him up in the quilt that was pooled there. Salt had dried on the man’s cheeks and eyelashes from the tears he’d cried.

_Finished._

“Almost, Dean, almost.” Cas looked at the Mark. It hadn’t changed from the last time he checked.

 _Dammit_ There was one last thing, but he wasn’t sure Dean could handle it. Not after 50 lashes.

_What is it, Cas? Just tell me._

“The Mark. I think I can purge its power. But I don’t know if you can physically take it.”

_Do I have to stay conscious?_

“I don’t think so. Consciousness is part of the penance. This is not tied to that, strictly speaking.”

_Do it. We’re close. I can feel it._

Cas lifted his face to the ceiling, “Please, Father, let this work. I don’t know what else to try.”

Setting Dean’s head gently down on the floor, he went over to the table. There was one last crystal, black tourmaline. It was close to four inches long and very wide at the base. It had been a joke from Gabriel, actually, who had always mocked Cas’ methods. If this didn’t work, there was nothing left to try. He hoped this wouldn’t cause Dean to lose use of his arm permanently. He grabbed the crystal and the tube of lube and went back to where Dean was still curled in the fetal position.

Cas set the items on the stand beside the bed, then he gathered Dean in his arms and lifted him up onto the bed. There were times when angel strength came in handy, and dead lifting a 200 pound hunter was one of them. 

“Dean?”

_I’m here Cas. I just can’t talk. Or open my eyes. But I can hear you._

Cas placed several pillows under Dean’s hips, cantering them upwards and pulled Dean’s knees up and let them drop outwards.

“Based on what happened last time, I’m going to try and make this switch quick. The bronze will still be in place, but I don’t expect it will help much.”

_Just get it over with._

Cas settled on his knees between Dean’s legs. He’d been in this position so much in last fourteen hours but he wished he could someday have a chance to have Dean just like this, offering nothing but pleasure, warmth, love and tenderness.

_Cas? I love you. And I know you love me. No matter what happens, that’s never gonna change. Capiche?_

Tears started falling from Cas’ eyes. “Yeah, I capiche.” He lubed up the smooth, black, hunk of crystal. There was no outer rock to hold onto, so from the moment he started to insert it, it would unleash its effect on Dean. He knew he would have to work quickly. He held the black stone in his right hand, hovering it just below Dean’s anus. With his left, he grabbed a hold of the amethyst and pulled it out fast. Dean’s scream was immediate and Cas forced the tourmaline into Dean as fast as he could. Dean bucked violently and the arm with the Mark swung up to punch Cas across the jaw. Cas leaned into the blow, caught Dean’s wrist. Without any thought, Cas held the arm firm and then clamped his mouth over the Mark. 

His mouth felt like it was full of battery acid but he couldn’t remove his lips from Dean’s arm if he wanted to. Dean continued to writhe fiercely below him and Cas wasn’t sure but it seemed like the hunter’s belly was glowing. Cas fell on top of Dean as he felt like he would suffocate from the ooze filling his mouth. Cas struggled hold it, his eyes burning, his nose filling with the scent of seared flesh. Dean’s screams held the rawness of air just being force past inflamed tissue. Cas could feel Dean’s left hand scraping and hitting at his back, seeking some point to grab and pull him off. Tears flowed past squeezed lids as he endured the blows.

Then like a leech that was too full, Cas’ mouth released and black smoke poured out of him, dissipating into the floor. Dean lay still beneath him and Cas could clearly see his abdomen glowing as if someone and shoved a high-powered flashlight up his ass. Cas could feel the impeding darkness coming, so with his last breath he said, “Dean, I absolve your guilt of the sin of murder” and everything went black.

*******

It was Dean’s turn to wake up first. He rolled Cas to his left, not even realizing that he had use of his right arm again. Once the angel was off of him, he pulled the black hunk of crystal from his ass. The relief was immediate. He sat up and the makeshift cock rings Cas had crafted slid off easily too.

Dean’s head was splitting and he could see the red, angry welts across his thighs. Cas had an ugly bruise forming on his left cheek and jaw and Dean saw the angry red scratches he’d left on his back. Cas’ lips looked like they’d been burned. That made Dean look down at his arm. The Mark was black and perfectly flat. Like he’d gotten some fucking hipster tribal tattoo. Surrounding it was a ring, skin tight and shiny like a first degree burn. He looked closely at it. It almost seemed as if…

“Cas? Cas!” Dean’s voice was almost gone, so he rasped Cas’ name over and over, shaking him.

_C’mon, buddy. Wake up. Don’t make me get ice water!_

Cas blinked his eyes open and seemed confused by where he was. He looked at Dean, memories flooding back. He sat up quickly. “Is it…how does it?”

Dean held out his arm out. Cas hovered his hand over the dark shape, marveling.

 _Go ahead. Touch it._ Cas ran his fingers over Dean’s arm, caressing the smooth skin. “How does it feel?”

_Honestly, I can still feel some numbness. It doesn’t exactly ache, but I can just **feel** it. Kinda annoying actually._

“That is likely to be permanent, unfortunately.”

 _Fabulous._ Cas tilted his head at the sarcasm.

“Better than losing a hand or your testicles.” Cas said wryly. Dean chuckled softly. Then Cas noticed the ring that surrounded the blackened shape.

“What is this?”

_I was hoping you could tell me. I’m no expert but it looks like Enochian._

“It is, but the words they don’t…”he studied them closely for a while. “There are words but not real words or words that don’t mean anything.”

 _Cromulent or hunking?_

Cas rolled his eyes. “Those are apt examples, yes.”

_So what do you think it means?_

“Some kind of binding spell would make sense, but I don’t know why. And it’s not of me.”

_What does that mean, ‘not of you’? You put it there._

“I did, yes. But I was the conduit. I don’t even know what made me put my mouth on your arm in the first place.”

 _Cas, are you trying to tell me you think God put it there?_

Cas shrugged his shoulders, continuing to stare intently at the tiny symbols and shapes. 

_I’m so done with your father, man. Why not just tell you what to do?_

“That’s just not how God works Dean. It’s not like I’m going to have to neutralize the Mark of Cain every third Tuesday. I don’t need to know how, I just needed to be there to do it.”

_That was pretty sassy for an uptight, nerdy, little dude._

“Whupped _your_ ass into next week.”

_Hell yeah, you did. Come ’ere. _Dean wrapped Cas in a tight hug and pulled him on top of himself. Wrapping the quilt over them, he whispered, “I wanna sleep for a few years.”__

“Don’t try to talk, Dean. Makes my throat hurt just listening to you.” Together they snuggled as close as they could, clinging to one another. Cas mojo’d the lights out and they both fell swiftly into dreamscape.

******

It was just past three the next day when Sam returned from Sioux Falls. He found Dean and Cas in the theatre room watching the first Hobbit movie. Cas was curled up, asleep on Dean’s lap and Sam saw his brother lightly running his fingers through the angel’s hair.

“Dean? Is everything…”

“Shh.” Dean held his fingers to his lips. He then gently slipped out from under Cas’ head. Sam watched him take a moment to position him in the couch and pull the fleece blanket over his shoulders. Then Dean motioned for Sam to leave, so he turned and waited for Dean in the hall.

“Everything OK?”

“Peachy-keen. His grace is just a little tapped out” Dean’s voice was still pretty raspy but his vocal cords didn’t hurt any more, thanks to Cas working some mojo on them. It had been healing his own wounds and burned lips that has really worn the angel out. “Look.” Dean slid the sleeve of his Henley up to show the Mark.

Sam ran his fingers over it and looked at his brother quizzically. “So, what, you had it tattooed there?”

“Nope. That’s the scar that is left. It’s gone. Well, not gone, gone. But the bad part, the evil-ness, I guess, is gone.”

“What’s this circle around…is that, is that Enochian?”

“Cas says it’s a binding spell. That way no demon can try to resurrect the Mark. It’s mine bear all the same. Sorta my penance.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Penance? Like, a scarlet A or something.”

“Kinda, yeah. But it’s cool. I’m good.”

“Really?”

With great sincerity, Dean smiled. “Really, Really.”

Sam pulled his brother in a tight hug. “That’s great, man. I’ve been so worried. I just didn’t know what to do.”

Dean held Sam tight, giving an extra squeeze before releasing him. “That’s OK. Cas did.”

Swallowing, Sam nodded. “I’m glad Dean. But I gotta ask. What is with you and Cas?”

“What? He’s family.”

“Of course he’s family, Dean. But that,” Sam motioned to the couch, “that was, well, intimate.”

“And that bothers you?” Dean put his hands in his jean pockets and Sam could tell he was getting defensive.

“Not at all, no. I’m just…Are you sure this is a change you want to make? Cause there’s no coming back from that once you start. Not without losing him for good.”

Dean placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Sammy, I will no more lose Cas than I’d lose you. We’re family. Nothing will change that.” He cocked his head to the side, “There’s just gonna be a little more kissing on this side of the family.” Dean gave his brother a big grin and Sam couldn’t remember when he’s seen him genuinely smile like that.

Sam held his hands up and chuckled, “Hey, I don’t wanna know the details. But I’m happy for you. For both of you. It’s been a long time coming.”

Dean pulled Sam into another tight hug. “I love you, Sammy. So much.”

“I love you too Dean.” In his whole life, he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard those words from his brother. Sam wrapped him up tighter. “I love you too.”

*******

After they’d had dinner and played a game of poker (Dean wanted strip poker was roundly shouted down. _Pussies_ ) and Sam had wished them good night. Cas and Dean turned off the last of the lights and walked down the hall towards the bunk rooms. Cas’ room was first, so he started to turn the knob.

“I wanna sleep in my room. Memory foam!” _It will be easier on your knees when you suck me off_

“Uh, Ok, Dean. Good night.” Cas turned back towards his door and Dean pulled him back.

“I said I don’t wanna be in your room.” _I just can’t go in there. Not today._

“And no one is forcing you to, Dean,” exasperation rising in his voice.

Understanding slowly dawned and Dean said, “You can’t read my thoughts anymore, can you.”

“No. I turned that off. It’s too much of an invasion for me to know your every thought, especially when you can’t know mine.”

“Huh. Honestly, I kinda miss it. OK, let me spell this out plainly. I want you to come with me to my room.”

Cas squinted at him. “To sleep?”

Dean smirked. “Eventually,” and he pulled on Cas’ wrists leading him a few doors down to his room.

**Author's Note:**

> The Led Zeppelin song quoted above is Good Times Bad Times


End file.
